"For a little while, dear. We have had a telegram that Uncle
Charlie is very, very ill. And Aunt Jane and I are going to New
York to-night."
So Aunt Jane was going too! Polly was relieved at that. Uncle Charlie she scarcely knew, so her main anxiety was for her mother, of whose devotion to this only brother she was well aware. "Is he going to die, mamma?" she asked slowly.
The tears were falling on the toilet-case in Mrs. Adams's hand, but she answered steadily,—
"I hope not, dear; but they are very anxious about him. I am sorry to leave you all alone here with papa, and he is away so much of the time, too."
"Don't you worry about me, Jerusalem," answered Polly courageously, though her heart sank, a little, as she thought of the lonely evenings.
"I presume I shan't be gone long," said Mrs. Adams thoughtfully; "but it is so uncertain. If only Aunt Jane could be here, it would be a comfort to you."
But Polly shook her head violently.
"I'd rather be alone, mamma. I shall get along beautifully, and you've no idea what good care I'll take of papa."
Mrs. Adams was crossing the room to get her slippers. As she passed Polly, she stooped to kiss her.
"And you have no idea," she said, "what a comfort it is to me that you take it so bravely. I know it will be forlorn for you, but there isn't any help for it. Papa is getting ready, now, to drive us to the station, for it is almost time for the train."